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RICHARD V\7TI 

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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



TWO WORLDS, AND OTHER POEMS 



^j 7^. tV. GILDER 

I. THE CK.EW T)AY 

II. THE CELESTIAL TASSIOCT^ 

III. LYRICS 

/F. TWO WORLDS, AND OTHER TOEMS 



TWO WORLDS # AND 
OTHER POEMS ^^ BY 
RICHARD WATSON GILDER 



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c>ix%<4y\j^ 






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PUBLISHED BY THE 




CENTURY CO. N. Y. 




1891 





<o 






Copyright, 1891, 

By Richard Watson Gilder. 

All rights reserved. 



The De Vinne Press. 



.^ 



CONTENTS 
I 

PAGE 

Two Worlds ii 

I. The Venus of Milo. 
U. Michael Angelo's Slave. 

II 

The Star in the City 15 

Moonlight 17 

"I Care Not if the Skies are White" ... 20 

Contrasts 21 

Serenade. For Music 22 

Largess 24 

Indoors, at Night 25 

The Absent Lover 26 

" To-NiGHT the Music Doth a Burden Bear " . . 27 

Sanctum Sanctorum 28 

" Ah, Time, Go not so Soon " 30 

The Gift 31 

" The Years are Angels " 34 

" In Her Young Eyes" 34 

" Yesterday, When We Were Friends " . . . 35 

A Night Song. For the Guitar 36 

Leo 37 



6 CONTENTS 

III 

PAGE 

Brothers 41 

Love, Art, and Time. On a picture entitled " The Por- 
trait," ty Will H. Low 42 

The Dancers. On a picture entitled " Summer," by T. 

W. Dewing 43 

The Twenty-Third of April 44 

Emma Lazarus 45 

The Twelfth of December 46 

IV 

Sheridan (1S88) 49 

Sherman (1891) 52 

Pro Patria. In Memory of a Faithful Chaplain. Rev. 

William H. Gilder, A. M. ; Fortieth N. Y. Volunteers . 54 

Failure and Success 59 

J. R. L. On his Birthday 59 

Napoleon 60 

The White Tsar's People 61 

V 

Hide not Thy Heart! 67 

" The Poet from His Own Sorrow " . . . .70 

"White, Pillared Neck" 71 



COXTEA'TS 



7 



PAGE 

'Great Nature is an Army Gay" 72 

' Life IS THE Cost" 74 

The Prisoner's Thought 76 

The Condemned 79 

' Sow Thou Sorrow " 79 

Temptation 80 

A Midsummer Meditation 81 

' As DoiH the Bird " 83 

Visions 84 

I. " Cast into the Pit." 
11. " Came to me Once." 
III. " With Full-toned Beat." 

With a Cross of Immortelles 86 

The P.\ssing of Christ 87 

Credo 92 

NoN Sine Dolore 95 

VI 1 

Ode : Read before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa, Har- 
vard University, June 26, 1890 ..... 105 

AFTER-SONG. 

To Rosamond 115 



Decorations by H. de K. 



TWO WORLDS 



THE VENUS OF MILO 



G 



RACE, majesty, and the calm bliss of life; 
No conscious war 'twixt human will and duty; 
Here breathes, forever free from pain and strife, 
The old, untroubled pagan world of beauty. 



MICHAEL ANGELO'S SLAVE 

Of life, of death the mystery and woe, 

Witness in this mute, carven stone the whole. 

That suffering smile were never fashioned so 
Before the world had wakened to a soul. 



II 



THE STAR IN THE CITY 

AS down the city street 
I pass at the twilight hour, 
'Mid the noise of wheels and hoofs 
That grind on the stones, and beat,- 
Upward, by spire and tower, 
Over the chimneys and roofs 
Climbs my glance to the skies, 
And I see, with a glad surprise, 
A mist with a core of light. 

Slowly, as grows the night, — 
As the sky turns blue from gray, — 
Slowly it beams more bright, 
And keeps with me on my way. 

Soul of the twilight star 
That leads me from afar. 



1 6 THE STAR IN THE CITY 

Spirit that keener glows 

As the dayhght darker grows, — 

That leaps the chasm of blue 

Where the cross-street thunders through, 

And follows o'er roof and spire, 

In the night-time soaring higher; 

I know thee, and only I, — 

Thou comrade of the sky, — 

Star of the poet's heart, 

The light and soul of his art. 



MOONLIGHT 



17 



MOONLIGHT 

'T IS twelve o' the clock. 

The town is still; 
As gray as a rock 

From gable to sill 
Each cottage is standing. 

The narrow street 

(Where the tree-tops meet), 
From the woods to the landing, 
Is black with shadows; 

The roofs are white, 
And white are the meadows; 

The harbor is bright : 

Can this be night ? 



MOONLIGHT 



'Tis twelve o' the clock. 

The town is still; 
As still as a stock 

From harbor to hill. 
The moon's broad marge 

Has no stars near, 

Far ofif how clear 
They shine, how large! 
Something is strange 

In the air, in the light ; 
Come forth ! Let us range 

In the black, in the white, 

Through the day-like night. 



Ill 

In the elm trees all 

No flutter, no twitter; 
From the granite wall 
The small stars glitter. 



MOONLIGHT 

A filmy thread 

My forehead brushes; 

A meteor rushes 
From green to red. 
Naught is but the bhss 

Of this dark, of this wliite, 
Of these stars, — of this kiss, 

O my Love and m\' Light 

In the day and the night. 



20 "/ CARE NOT IF THE SKIES ARE WHITE' 



" I CARE NOT IF THE SKIES ARE WHITE " 

I CARE not if the skies are white, 

Nor if the fields are gold ; 
I care not whether 't is black or bright, 
Or winds blow soft or cold ; 

But O the dark, dark w^oods, 
For thee, and me, and love. 

Let all but us at last depart, 

The great Avorld say farewell ! 
This is the kingdom of the heart, 
Where only three may dwell; 

And O the dark, dark woods. 
For thee, and me, and love. 



CONTA'ASTS 



CONTRASTS 



Thundkr in the north sky, 
Sunshine in the south ; 

Frowning eyes and forehead 
And a smiHn"; mouth. 



Maiden in the morning, — 

Love her! Yes — but fear her! 

In the moony shadows — 
Nearer, nearer, nearer ! 



SERENADE 



SERENADE 

(for music) 



Deep in the ocean of night 

A pearl through the darkness shines; 
Asleep in the garden of night 

A lily's head reclines; 
Afar in the forest of night 

Dreams the nightingale ; 
Clouds in the sky of night 

Make one bright star grow pale. 



O thou, sweet soul of my love, 

Art my pearl, my lily-flower; 

Thou, hiding heart of my love, 



SliREXADJ-: 23 

Art my bird, in thy maiden bower; 
Heart of my only love 

That- shin'st in the heavens afar — 
Thou, in the night of love, 

Art my one, dear, trembling star. 

Ill 

Let me (.Iraw thee to the light 

Pearl of the shadowy sea ! 
Awake, thou lily of light, 

Turn thy face divine on me ! 
Arouse thee, bird of the night, 

Let thy voice to my voice reply! 
Star of thy lover's night, 

Shine forth or I die — I die! ' 



24 



LARGESS 



LARGESS 



Sweet mouth, dark eyes, deep heart, — 

All of beauty, all of glamour heaven could fashion 
With its divinest art; 

A woman's life and love, a woman's passion : 



But these, at last, to win, 

Land, or sea, or hell, or heaven might well be 
ravished 
At price of any sin, — 

Yet freely all she on her lover lavished. 



INDOORS, A T NIGHT 



25 



INDOORS, AT NIGHT 

The window's white, the candle's red. 

Show evening falleth overhead ; 

The candle's red, the window's black. 

And earth is close in midnight's sack; 

The candle fades. 

The midnight shades 

Turn suddenly a starry blue — 

Anil now to dreams, my soul, of you ! 



26 THE ABSENT LOVER 



THE ABSENT LOVER 

The purple of the summer fields, the dark 

Of forests, and the upward mountain sweejD — 

Broken by crags, and scar of avalanche ; 

The trembling of the tops of million trees; 

A world of sunlight thrilled with winds of dawn; 

All these I feel, I breathe, all these I am 

When with closed eyes I bring thy presence near, 

And touch thy spirit with my spirit's love. 



TO-NIGHT THE MUSIC" 



27 



"TO-NIGHT THE MUSIC DOTH A BURDEN 
BEAR" 

To-NiGHT the music doth a burden bear, — 
One word that moans and murmurs; doth exhale 
Tremulously as perfume on the air 
From out a rose blood-red, or lily pale; 
The burden is thy name, dear soul of me, 
Which the rapt melodist unknowing all 
Still doth repeat through fugue and reverie ; 
Thy name, to him unknown, to me doth call — 
And weeps my heart at every music-fall. 



SANCTUM SANCTORUM 



SANCTUM SANCTORUM 



I THOUGHT I knew the mountain's every mood, 
Gray, black with storms, or ht by hghtening dawn ; 
But once in evening twihght came a spell 
Upon its brow, that held me with new power; 
A look of unknown beauty, a deep mood 
Touched with a sorrow as of human kind. 



I thought I knew full well my comrade's face. 

But a new face it was to me this day. 

She sat among the worshipers and heard 

The preacher's voice, yet listened not, but leaned 

Her head unto a tone whose accents fell 

On her sweet spirit only. Deep the awe 

Struck then upon me, for my friend no more 



SAXCTi'M SAA'CTOA'UM 29 

Scemetl to be near, as with forgetting gaze, 
And piteous features steeped in tenderness, 
She thought on things unspeakable, — unknown 
To all the world beside. 



Ill 

\\'hen forth doth pass 
In holy pilgrimage and awful quest, 
The soul of thy soul's comrade, thou must stand 
In silence by, and let it move alone 
And unattended far to the inner shrine: 
Thou canst but wait, and bow^ thine head, and pray; 
And well for thee if thou may'st prove so pure, — 
Ended that hour, — thy comrade thou regain'st. 
Thine as before, or even more deeply thine. 



30 ''AH, TIME, GO NOT SO SOON'' 



"AH, TIME, GO NOT SO SOON" 

Ah, Time, go not so soon, 

I would not thus be used, I would forego that boon ; 

Turn back, swift Time, and let 

Me many a year forget ; 

Let her be strange once more, — an unfamiliar tune, 

An unimagined flower, 

Not known till that mute, wondrous hour 

When first we met ! 



THE GIFT 



31 



THE GIFT 



Life came to me and spoke : 
" A palace for thee I have built 
Wherein to take thy pleasure ; 
I have filled it with priceless treasure ; 
Seven days shalt thou dwell therein, 
Thy joy shall be keener than sin, 
Without the stain of guilt — 
Enter the door of oak ! " 



I entered the oaken door ; 

Wfthin, no ray of light, 

I saw no golden store. 

My heart stood still with fright ; 



32 THE GIFT 



To curse Life was I fain ; 
Then one unseen before 
Laid in my own her hand, 
And said : " Come thou and know 
This is the House of Woe, — 
I am Life's sister, Pain." 



HI 

Through many a breathless way 
In dark, on dizzying height, 
She led me through the day 
And into the dreadful night; 
My soul was sore distressed 
And wildly I longed for rest; — 
Till a chamber met my sight, 
Far off", and hid, and still, 
With diamonds all bedight 
And every precious thing; 
Not even a god might will 
More beauty there to bring. 



THE GIFT ^2 



IV 

Then spoke Life's sister, Pain, 
" Here thou as a king shalt reign, 
Here shalt thou take thy j^leasure, 
This is the priceless treasure, 
The chamber of thy delight 
Through endless day and night ; 
Rejoice, this is the end : 
Thou hast found the heart of a friend. 



34 



'IN HER YOUNG EYES'' 



"THE YEARS ARE ANGELS" 

The years are angels that bring down from Heaven 
Gifts of the gods. What has the angel given 
Who last night vanished up the heavenly wall ? 
He gave a friend — the gods' best gift of all. 



"IN HER YOUNG EYES" 

In her young eyes the children looked and found 
Their happy comrade. Summer souls false-bound 
In age's frosty winter, — without ruth, — 
Lived once again in her their long-lost youth. 



^'YESTERDAY, WHEN IVE WERE FRIENDS'' 35 



"YESTERDAY, WHEN WE WERE FRIENDS" 



Yesterday, when we were friends, 
We were scarcely friends at all ; 

Now we have been friends so long, 
And our love has grown so strong. 



When to-morrow's eve shall fall 
We shall say, as night descends. 
Again shall say : Ah, yesterday 

Scarcely were we friends at all — 

Now we have been friends so long 
Our love has grown so deep, so strong. 



36 ^ NIGHT SONG 



A NIGHT SONG 

(for the guitar) 

The leaves are dark and large, Love, 
'Tis blue at every marge. Love ; 

The stars hang in the tree, Love, 
I '11 pluck them all. for thee, Love; 

The crescent moon is curled. Love, 
Down at the edge of the world, Love ; 

I '11 run and bring it now. Love, 
To crown thy gentle brow, Love ; 

For in my song 

The summer long 

The stars, and moon, and night, Love, 
Are but for thy delight. Love ! 



LEO 37 



LEO 

1 



Over the roofs of the houses 1 hear the barking of Leo — 

Leo the shaggy, the lustrous, the giant, the gentle New- 
foundland. 

Dark are his eyes as the night, and black is his hair as the 
midnight ; 

Large and slow is his tread till he sees his master re- 
turning. 

Then how he leaps in the air, with motion ponderous, 
frightening ! 

Now as I pass to my work I hear o'er the roar of the 
city — 

Far over the roofs of the houses, I hear the barking of 
Leo ; 

For me he is moaning and crying, for me in measure 
sonorous 

He raises his marvelous voice, for me he is wailing and 
calling. 



^8 LEO 

None can assuage his grief though but for a day is the 

parting, | 

Though morn after morn 't is the same, though home ■ 

every night comes his master, 
Still will he grieve when we sever, and wild will be his 

rejoicing 
When at night his master returns and lays but a hand on 

his forehead. 
No lack will there be in the world of faith, of love, and 

devotion, 
No lack for me and for mine, while Leo alone is living — 
While over the roofs of the houses I hear the barking of 

Leo. 



Ill 



BROTHERS 



41 



BROTHERS 

PASSION is a wayward child, 
Art his brother firm and mild. 
Lonely each 
Doth fail to reach 
Height of music, song or speech. 
If hand in hand they sally forth, 
East or west, or south or north, 
Naught can stay them 
Nor delay them. 

Slaves not they of space or time 
In their joumeyings sublime. 



42 LOVE, ART, AND TIME 



LOVE, ART, AND TIME 



ON A PICTURE ENTITLED '" THE PORTRAIT, BY WILL 
H. LOW 

Sweet Grecian girl who on the sunbright wall 
Tracest the outline of thy lover's shade, 
While, on the dial near, Time's hand is laid 
With silent motion — fearest thou, then, all? 

How that one day the light shall cease to fall 

On him who is thy light; how lost, dismayed, — 
By Time, and Time's pale comrade. Death 

betrayed, — 
Thou shalt breathe on beneath the all-shadowing 
pall! 

Love, Art, and Time — these are the triple powers 

That rule the world, and shall for many a morrow : 
Love that beseecheth Art to conquer Time ! 

Bright is the picture, but, O fading flowers ! 

O youth that passes, love that bringeth sorrow — 
Bright is the picture ; sad the poet's rhyme. 



1 

LL I 



THE DANCERS 43 



THE DANCERS 

ON A PICTURE ENTITLED " SUMMER," BY T. W. DEWING 

Behold these maidens in a row 
Against the birches' freshening green ; 
Their hnes Hke music sway and flow; 
They move before the emerald screen 
Like broidered figures dimly seen 
On woven cloths, in moony glow — 
Gracious, and graceful, and serene. 
They hear the harp ; its lovely tones 
Each maiden in each motion owns, 
As if she were a living note 
Which from that curved harp doth float. 



44 THE TIVENTY-THJRD OF APRIL 



THE TWENTV-THIRD OF APRIL 

A LITTLE English earth and breathed air 

Made Shakespeare the divine ; so is his verse 

The broidered soil of every blossom fair ; 

So doth his song all sweet bird-songs rehearse. 

But tell me, then, what wondrous stuff did fashion 
That part of him which took those wilding flights 
Among imagined worlds; whence the white pas- 
sion 
That burned three centuries through the days and 
nights ! 

Not heaven's four winds could make, nor the round 
earth, 
The soul wherefrom the soul of Hamlet flamed : 
Nor anything of merely mortal birth 

Could lighten as when Shakespeare's name is named. 
How was his body bred we know full well. 
But that high soul's engendering who may tell ! 



EMMA LAZARUS 



45 



EMMA LAZARUS 

\Vhk\ on thy bed of pain thou h^yest low 
Daily we saw thy body fade away, 
Nor could the love wherewith we loved thee stay 
For one dear hour the flesh borne down by woe ; 

But as the mortal sank, with what white glow 
Flamed thy eternal spirit, night and day — 
Untouched, unwasted, though the crumbling clay 
Lay wrecked and ruined ! Ah, is it not so, 

Dear poet-comrade, who from sight hast gone — 

Is it not so that spirit hath a life i 

Death may not conquer ? But, O dauntless one ! 

Still must we sorrow. Heavy is the strife 

And thou not with us — thou of the old race 
That with Jehovah parleyed, face to face. 



46 THE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER 



THE TWELFTH OF DECEMBER 

On this day Browning died ? 
Say, rather : On the tide 
That throbs against those glorious palace walls ; 
That rises — pauses — falls 

With melody, and myriad-tinted gleams; 

On that enchanted tide, 
Half real, and half poured from lovely dreams, 
A Soul of Beauty, — a white, rhythmic flame, — 
Passed singing forth into the Eternal Beauty whence 
it came. 



IV 



SHERIDAN 4g 



SHERIDAN 
I 



OUIETLY, like a child 
That sinks in slumber mild, 
No i)ain or troubled thought his well-earned peace 

to mar, 
Sank into endless rest our thunder-bolt of war. 

II 

Though his the power to smite 

Quick as the lightning's light, — 
His single arm an army, and his name a host, — 
Not his the love of blood, the warrior's cruel boast. 

Ill 
But in the battle's flame 
How glorious he came ! — 
Even like a white-combed wave that breaks and tears 

the shore. 
While wreck lies strewn behind, and terror flies before. 
4 



5° 



SHERIDAN 



IV 

'T was he, — his voice, his might, — 

Could stay the panic-flight. 
Alone shame back the headlong, many-leagued retreat. 
And turn to evening triumph morning's foul defeat. 

V 

He was our modem Mars; 

Yet firm his faith that wars 
Erelong would cease to vex the sad, ensanguined earth. 
And peace forever reign, as at Christ's holy birth. 

VI 

Blest land, in whose dark hour 

Arise to loftiest power 
No dazzlers of the sword to play the tyrant's part. 
But patriot-soldiers, true and pure and high of heart ! 

VII 

Of such our chief of all ; 

And he who broke the wall 
Of civil strife in twain, no more to build or mend ; 
And he who hath this day made Death his faithful 
friend. 



SHERIDAN 



51 



VIII 

And now above his tomb 

From out the eternal gloom 
" Welcome ! " his chieftain's voice sounds o'er the can- 
non's knell ; 
And of the three one only stays to say " Farewell ! " 



52 



SHERMAN 



SHERMAN 

I 

Glory and honor and fame and everlasting laudation 
For our captains who loved not war, but fought for the 

life of the nation ; 
Who knew that, in all the land, one slave meant strife, 

not peace ; 
Who fought for freedom, not glory; made war that 

war misfht cease. 



Glory and honor and fame; — the beating of muffled 

drums ; 
The wailing funeral dirge, as the flag-wrapped coffin 

comes. 
Fame and honor and glory, and joy for a noble soul ; 
For a full and splendid life, and laureled rest at the 

goal. 



SHERMAN ^3 

III 

Glory and honor and fame ; — the pomp that a soldier 

prizes ; 
The league-long waving line as the marching falls and 

rises ; 
Rumbling of caissons and guns, the clatter of horses' 

feet, 
And a million awe-struck faces far down the waiting 

street. 

IV 

But better than martial woe, and the pageant of civic 
sorrow ; 

Better than praise of to-day, or the statue we build to- 
morrow ; 

Better than honor and glory, and history's iron pen. 

Is the thought of duty done and the love of his fellow- 
men. 



54 PRO PATRIA 



PRO PATRIA 

IN MEMORY OF A FAITHFUL CHAPLAIN* 
I 

Erewhile I sang the praise of them whose lustrous 
names 

Flashed in war's dreadful flames ; 
Who rose in glory, and in splendor, and in might 

To fame's sequestered height. 



Honor to all, for each his honors meekly carried, 

Nor e'er the conquered harried ; 
All honor, for they sought alone to serve the state — 

Not merely to be great. 

* The chaplain referred to lost his life through taking upon 
himself the visitation of the army smallpox hospital, near the 
camp of his regiment, the 40th N. Y. Vols., at Brandy Station, 
Virginia, April, 1864. 



PRO PATRIA 52 



III 



Yes, while the glorious past our grateful memory 
craves, 

And while yon bright flag waves, 
Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, the peerless four, 

Shall live forever more ; 



IV 

Shall shine the eternal stars of stern and loyal love, 

All other stars above ; 
The imperial nation they made one, at last, and free, 

Their monument shall be. 



Ah yes ! but ne'er may we forget the praise to sound 

Of the brave souls that found 
Death in the myriad ranks, 'mid blood, and groans, 
and stenches — 

Tombs in the abhorred trenches. 



^6 PRO P ATRIA 

41 

Comrades! To-day a tear-wet garland I would bring — 

But one song let me sing, 
For one sole hero of my heart and desolate home ; 

Come with me, Comrades, come ! 



i 



Bring your glad flowers, your flags, for this one humble 
grave ; 
For, Soldiers, he was brave ! 
Though fell not he before the cannon's thunderous 
breath, 
Yet noble was his death. 



VIII 

True soldier of his country and the sacred cross, — 

He counted gain, not loss, 
Perils and nameless horrors of the embattled field. 

While he had help to yield. 



PRO PATRIA 57 

IX 

But not where 'mid wild cheers the awful battle 
broke, — 

A hell of fire and smoke, — 
He to heroic death went forth with soul elate — 

Harder his lonely fate. 



Searching where most was needed, worst of all en- 
dured, 

Sufferers he found immured, — 
Tented apart because of fatal, foul disease, — 

Balm brought he unto these : 

XI 

Celestial balm, the spirit's holy mmistry, 

He brought, and only he ; 
\\'here men who blanched not at the battle's shell and 
shot 

Trembled, and entered not. 



58 PRO P ATRIA 

XII 



\ 



Yet life to him was oh, most dear, — home, children, 
wife, — 

But, dearer still than life. 
Duty — that passion of the soul which from the sod 

Alone lifts man to God. 



The pest-house entering fearless — stricken he fearless 
fell. 
Knowing that all was well : 
The high, mysterious Power whereof mankind has 
dreamed 
To him not distant seemed. 

XIV 

So nobly died this unknown hero of the war; 

And heroes, near and far. 
Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story — 

But theirs is more than glory ! 



J. R. L.— ON HIS BIRTHDAY 



FAILURE AND SUCCESS 

He fails who climbs to power and place 
Up the pathway of disgrace. 
He fails not who makes truth his cause, 
Nor bends to win the crowd's applause. 
He fails not, he who stakes his all 
Upon the right, and dares to fall ; — 
What though the living bless or blame, 
For him the long success of fame. 



J. R. L. 

ON HIS BIRTHDAY 

Navies nor armies can exalt the state, — 
Millions of men, nor coined wealth untold : 
Down to the pit may sink a land of gold ; 

But one great name can make a country great. 



59 



6o NAPOLEON 



NAPOLEON 

A SOUL inhuman ? No — but human all, 
If human is each passion man has known : 
Scorn, hate, and love ; the lust of empire, grown 
To such a height as did the world appal ; — 

If the same human soul may soar and crawl 
As soared his and as crawled; if to be shown 
The utmost heaven and hell ; if to atone 
For fame consummate by colossal fall ; — 

If human 't is to see friend, partisan 

Turn, dastardly, the imperial hand to tear 
That fed them; if through gnawing years to plan 

Vengeance, and space to breathe the unfettered air, — 
No alien from his kind but very man 
Slow perished on that island of despair. 



THE IVHirE TSAirS PEOPLE 6r 



THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 

PART I 

The White Tsar's people cry : 
" Thou God of the heat and the cold, 
Of storm and of lightning, 
Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening; 
Hold, Lord God, hold, 
Hold Thy hand lest we curse Thee and die." 

The White Tsar's people pray : 
" Thou God of the South and the North, 
We are crushed, we are bleeding ; 
'T is Christ, 't is Thy Son interceding ; 
Forth, Lord, come forth ! 
Bid the slayer no longer slay." 



62 THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 

The White Tsar's people call 
Aloud to the skies of lead : 
" We are slaves, not freemen ; 
Ourselves, our children, our women, — 
Dead, we are dead. 
Though we breathe, we are dead men all. 

" Blame not if we misprize thee 
Who can, but will not draw near. 
'Tis Thou who hast made us — 
Not Thou, dread God, to upbraid us. 
Hear, Lord God, hear ! 
Lest we whom Thou madest despise Thee." 



PART II 

Then answered the most high God, 
Lord of the heat and the cold, 
Of storm and of lightning. 
Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening : 
" Bold, yea, too bold. 
Whom I wrought from the air and the clod ! 



THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 63 

" Hast thou forgotten from me 
Are those ears so quick to hear 
The passion and anguish 
Of your sisters, your children who languish 
Near ? Ah, not near — 
Far off by the uttermost sea ! 



" Who gave ye your hearts to bleed 
And brains to weave and to plan? 
Why call ye on heaven — 
'T is the earth that to you is given 
Plead, ye may plead. 
But for man I work through man. 



" Who gave ye a voice to utter 
Your tale to the wind and the sea ? 
One word well spoken 
And the iron gates are broken. 
From me, yea, from me 
The word that ye will not mutter. 



64 THE WHITE TSAR'S PEOPLE 

" I love not murder but ruth. 
Begone from my sight ye who take 
The knife of the coward — 
E\-en ye who by heaven were dowered ! 
Wake ye, O wake, 
And strike with the sword of l~ruth ! 



" Fear ye lest I misprize ye — 
I who fashioned not brutes, but men. 
After the lightning 

And darkness — the dawn's red brightening! 
Men ! Be ye men ! 
Lest I who made ye despise ye ! " 



V 



HIDE NOT THY HEART 



67 



HIDE NOT THY HEART 



THIS is my creed, 
This be my deed : 
" Hide not thy heart ! " 
Soon we depart ; 
Mortals are all, 
A breath, then the pall ; 
A flash on the dark — 
All 's done — stiff and stark. 
No time for a lie ; 
The truth, and then die. 
Hide not thy heart! 



68 HIDE NOT THY HEART 



Forth with thy thought! 
Soon 't will be naught, 
And thou in thy tomb. 
Now is air, now is room. 
Down with false shame; 
Reck not of fame ; 
Dread not man's spite; 
Quench not thy light. 
This be thy creed, 
This be thy deed: 
" Hide not thy heart ! " 



III 

If God is, he made 
Sunshine and shade, 
Heaven and hell; 
This we know well. 
Dost thou believe ? 
Do not deceive; 



HIDE NOT THY HEART 

Scorn not thy faith : 
If 't is a wraith, 
Soon it will fly. 
Thou, who must die, 
Hide not thy heart I 



IV 

This is my creed, 
This be my deed ! 
Faith, or a doubt — 
I shall speak out 
And hide not my heart. 



69 



70 



THE POET FROM HIS OWN SORROW 



"THE POET FROM HIS OWxN SORROW" 

The poet from his own sorrow 

Poured forth a love-sad song. 
A stranger, on the morrow, 

Drew near, with a look of wrong, 
And said — "Beneath its pall 

1 have hidden my heart in vain — 
To the world thou hast sung it all ! 

Who told thee my secret pain ? " 



•WHITE, PILLARED NECK" 



71 



"WHITE, PILLARED NECK" 

White, pillared neck; a brow to make men quake; 

A woman's perfect form; — 
Like some cool marble, should that wake, 

Breathe, and be warm. 

A shape, a mind, a heart — 

Of womanhood the whole : 
Her breath, her smile, her touch, her art, 

All — save her soul. 



72 "GREAT NATURE IS AN ARMY GAV 



"GREAT NATURE IS AN ARMY GAY" 

Great nature is an army gay, 
Resistless marching on its way ; 
I hear the bugles clear and sweet, 
I hear the tread of million feet. 

Across the plain I see it pour ; 
It tramples down the waving grass ; 
Within the echoing mountain pass 
I hear a thousand cannon roar. 

It swarms within my garden gate; 
My deepest well it drinketh dry. 
It doth not rest ; it doth not wait ; 
By night and day it sweepeth by ; 
Ceaseless it marches by my door ; 
It heeds me not, though I implore. 
I know not whence it comes, nor where 
It goes. For me it doth not care — 



GREAT NATURE IS AX ARMY GAY 



73 



Whether I starve, or eat, or sleep, 

Or hve, or die, or sing, or weep. 

And now the banners all are bright, 

Now torn and blackened by the fight. 

Sometimes its laughter shakes the sky, 

Sometimes the groans of those who die. 

Still through the night and through the livelong day 

The infinite army marches on its remorseless wav. 



74 



LIFE IS THE COST'' 



LIFE IS THE COST" 



Life is the cost. 
Behold yon tower, 
That heavenward hfts 
To the cloudy drifts — 
Like a flame, like a flower! 
What lightness, what grace, 
What a dream of power ! 
One last endeavor 
One stone to place — 
And it stands forever. 



A shp, a fall — 

A cry, a call ; 

Turn away — all 's done. 

Stands the tower in the sun 



''LIFE IS THE COST'' 

Forever and a day. 
On the pavement below 
'I"he crimson stain 
Will be worn away 
In the ebb and flow; — 
The tower will remain. 
Life is the cost. 



75 



76 THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 



THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 



Is 't I for whom the law's brute penalty 

Was made, — to whom the law once seemed a power 

Far off and not to be concerned withal ? 

Am I indeed this rank and noisome thing 

Fit for such handling — to be pushed aside 

Into a human foul receptacle, 

A fetid compost of dull festering crime 

Even not fit for nutriment of the earth, 

But only here to rot in memories 

Of my own shame, and shame of other men ? 

Here let me rot then — there 's a taste one has 
For just the best of all things, even of sin. 
He 's a poor devil who in deepest hell 
Knows no keen relish for the worst that is, — 
The very acme of intensest pain, — 
Nor smacks charred lips at thoughts of some dear 
crime, 



77 



THE PRISONER'S 71I0UGI1T 

The sweetest, deadliest, damnablest of all. 
Sometimes I hug that hellish happiness ; 
And then a loathing falls upon my soul 
I'or what I was, ami am, and still must be. 



And this same I. — there comes to me a time, 
And often comes, when all this slips away : 
Stays not one stain, nor scar, nor fatal hurt. 
Perhaps it is a sort of waking dream; 
But if I dream. 1 'm breathing audibly, 
I feci my pulse beat, hear the talk and tread 
Down these long corridors; see the barred blue 
Of the cell's window, hear a singing bird — 
Ves, O my God, I hear a singing bird. 
Such as I heard in childhood. Now, you think, 
I dream 1 am a child once more. Not so ; 
I am just what I am ; a man in prison — 
(Damn them I I 'm innocent of what they swore 
And proved — with cant, and well-paid perjury; 
Though other crimes, they know not of, I did) — 
But suddenly my soul is pure as yours ; 



J 8 THE PRISONER'S THOUGHT 

My thoughts as clean ; my spirit is as free 

As any man's, or any purest woman's. 

I think as justly, as for instance, sir, 

You think ; as circumspectly, wisely, freely. 

As does my genial keeper, or the smith 

Who enters once a day to try the bars 

That shut my body out from freedom ! Not 

My soul. Why, this my soul has thoughts that strike 

Into the very heights and depths of Heaven. 

You '11 think it passing strange, good friend, no doubt. 

'T is strange ; but here 's a further mystery : 

Think you that in some other living state 

After what we call death, — or in this life, — 

The thinking part of us we name the soul 

Can ever get away from its old self; 

Can wash the earth all off from it, that so 

It really will be, what I sometimes seem — 

As sinless as a little child at birth, 

With all a woman's love for all things pure. 

And all a grown man's strength to do the right ? 



'SOfV THOU SORROW 



79 



THE CONDEMNED 

Thou art not fit to die? — Why not? 
The fairest body ripes to rot ; 
Thy soul ? Oh, why not let it go 
Free from the flesh that drags it low ! 
To die ! Poor wretch, do not deceive 
Thyself — who art not fit to live. 



"SOW THOU SORROW" 

Sow thou sorrow and thou shalt reap it; 
Sow thou joy and thou shalt keep it. 



TEMPT A TION 



I 



TEMPTATION 

Not alone in pain and gloom, 
Does the abhorred tempter come; 
Not in light alone and pleasure 
Proffers he the poisoned measure. 

When the soul doth rise 
Nearest to its native skies, 
There the exalted spirit finds 
Borne upon the heayenly winds 
Satan, in an angel's guise, 
With voice divine and innocent eyes. 



A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 



A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 



P\\CE once the thought : This piled up sky of cloud, 
Elue vastness, and white vastness steeped in light, — 
Struck through with hght, that centers in the sun, — 
This blue of waves below that meets blue sky : 
But a white, trembling shore between, that sweeps 
The circle of the bay; this green of woods, 
And keener green of new-mown, grassy fields; 
This ceaseless, leaf-like rustle of the waves; 
These shining, billowy tree-tops ; songs of birds ; 
Strong scent of seaweed, mixed with smell of pines ; 
Face once this thought : Thy spirit that looks forth, 
That breathes the light, and life, and joy of all. 
Shall cease, but not the things that pleasure thee ; 
They shall endure for eyes like thine, but not 
For thine own eyes ; for human hearts like thine, 
But not for thine own heart, all dust and dead. 
6 



82 A MIDSUMMER MEDITATION 



^ 



Face it, O Spirit, tlien look up once more, 

Brave conqueror of dull mortality ! 

Look up and be a part of all thou see'st; — 

Ocean and earth and miracle of sky, 

All that thou see'st, is thee, and without thee 

Were naught. Thou, too, a god, dost recreate 

The ^whole ; breathing thy soul on all, till all 

Is one wide world made perfect at thy touch. 

And know that thou, who darest a world create, 

Art one with the Almighty, son to sire — 

Of his eternity a quenchless spark. 



AS nor// T//E B/RD'' 83 



"AS DOTH THE BIRD" 

As doth the bird, on outstretched pinions, dare 

The dread abysm's viewless air — 

Take thou, my soul, thy fearless flight 

Into the void and dark of death's eternal night. 

In the Catskills. 



84 VISIONS 



VISIONS 



Cast into the pit 
Of lonely sorrow, 
The suffering soul, 
Looking aloft, 
Sees with amaze 
In the day-time sky 
The shine of stars. 



Came to me once 
In the seething town 
A form of beauty, 
Innocent brow. 
And soul of youth ; 



VISIOiVS 85 

Deep, sweet eyes, 
An angel's gaze, 
And rose-leaf lips 
That murmured low : 
I am thy sin." 



Ill 

With full-toned beat 
Of the happy heart, 
In a day of peace. 
In an hour of joy, 
Once in my life 
And only once, 
Of a sudden, I. saw. 
The end of all ! 
Death! 



86 WITH A CROSS OF IMMORTELLES 



WITH A CROSS OF IMMORTELLES 

When Christ cried, " It is done ! " 
The face of a small red flower, 

Looking up to the suffering One, 

Turned pale with love and pain, 
And never shone red again. 
In memory of that hour 

Which holds the secret of bliss. 
And the darker secret of sorrow — 
That shall come to each, to-morrow — 

Sweet friend, I send you this. 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 



87 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 



O Man of light and lore ! 
Do you mean that in our day 
The Christ has passed away; 
That nothing now is divine 
In the fierce rays that shine 
Through every cranny and thought ; 
That Christ as he once was taught 
Shall be the Christ no more ? 
That the Hope and Saviour of men 
Shall be seen no more again ; 
That, miracles being done, 
Gone is the Holy One ? 
And thus, you hold, the Christ 
For the past alone sufficed; 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 

From the throne of the hearts of the world 

The Son of God shall be hurled, 

And henceforth must, be sought 

New prophets and kings of thought; 

That the tenderest, truest word 

The heart of sorrow had heard 

Shall sound no more on earth ; 

That he who has made of buth 

A dread and holy rite ; 

Who has brought to the eyes of death 

A vision of heavenly light, 

Shall fade with our faihng faith ; — 

He who saw in children's eyes 

Eternal paradise; 

Who looked through shame and sin 

At the sanctity within; 

Whose memory, since he died, 

The earth has sanctified — 

Has been the stay and the hold 

Of millions of lives untold, 

And the world on its upward path 

Has led from crime and wrath ; — 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 89 

You say that this Christ has passed 
And we can not hold him fast. 



Ah no ! If the Christ you mean 

Shall pass from this time, this scene, 

These hearts, these lives of ours, 

'T is but as the summer flowers 

Pass, but return again, 

To gladden the world of men. 

For he, — the only, the true, — 

In each age, in each waiting heart, 

Leaps into life anew ; 

Though he pass, he shall not depart. 

Behold him now where he comes ! 

Not the Christ of our subtile creeds, 

But the light of our hearts, of our homes. 

Of our hopes, our prayers, our needs; 

The brother of want and blame, 

The lover of women and men, 



go 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 

With a love that puts to shame 
All passions of mortal ken : 
Yet of all of woman born 
His is the scorn of scorn; 
Before whose face doth fly 
Lies, and the love of a lie ; 
Who from the temple of God, 
And the sacred place of la^\■s, 
Drives forth, with uplifted rod, 
The herds of ravening maws. 

'T is he, as none other can, 

Makes free the spirit of man, 

And speaks, in darkest night. 

One word of awful light 

That strikes through the dreadful pain 

Of life, a reason sane — 

That word divine which brought 

The universe from naught. 

Ah no, thou life of the heart, 
Never shalt thou depart ! 



THE PASSING OF CHRIST 

Not till the leaven of God 

Shall lighten each human clod ; 

Not till the world shall climb 

To thy height serene, sublime, 

Shall the Christ who enters our door 

Pass to return no more. 



91 



92 



CREDO 



CREDO 

How easily my neighbor chants his creed, 

KneeUng beside me in the House of God. 

His " I beheve " he chants, and •' I beheve," 

With cheerful iteration and consent — 

Watching meantime the white, slow sunbeam move 

Across the aisle, or listening to the bird 

Whose free, wild song sounds through the open door. 

Thou God supreme, — I too, I too, believe! 
But oh ! forgive if this one human word, 
Binding the deep and breathless thought of thee 
And my own conscience with an iron band. 
Stick in my throat. I cannot say it, thus — 
This "I believe" that doth thyself obscure; 
This rod to smite ; this barrier ; this blot 
On thy most unimaginable face 
And soul of majesty. 



CREDO 

'T is not man's faith 
In thee that he proclaims in formal phrase, 
But faith in man ; faith not in thine own Christ, 
But in another man's dim thought of him. 

Christ of Judea, look thou in my heart. 
Do I not love thee, look to thee, in thee 
Alone have faith of all the sons of men! — 
Faith deepening with the weight and woe of years 

Pure soul and tenderest of all that came 
Into this world of sorrow, hear my prayer: 

Lead me, yea lead me deeper into life — 
This suffering, human life wherein thou liv'st 
And breathest still, and hold'st thy way divine. 
'T is here, O pitying Christ, where thee I seek. 
Here where the strife is fiercest ; where the sun 
Beats down upon the highway thronged with men, 
And in the raging mart. Oh ! deeper lead 
My soul into the living world of souls 
Where thou dost move. 



93 



g4 CREDO f 

\ 
But lead me, Man Divine, 

Where'er thou will'st, onl)' that I may find 

At the long journey's end thy image there, 

And grow more hke to it. For art not thou 

The human shadow of the infinite Love I 

That made and fills the endless universe ! 

The very Word of him, the unseen, unknown 

Eternal Good that rules the summer flower 

And all the worlds that people starry space ! 



NON SINE DO LORE 



NON SINE DOLORE 



What, then, is Life, — what Death? 

Thus the Answerer saith ; 

O faithless mortal, bend thy head and listen : 

Down o'er the vibrant strings. 

That thrill, and moan, and mourn, and glisten, 

The Master draws his bow. 

A voiceless pause ; then upward, see, it springs, 

Free as a bird with unimprisoned wings ! 

In twain the chord was cloven. 

While, shaken with woe. 

With breaks of instant joy all interwoven, 

Piercing the heart with lyric knife, 

On, on the ceaseless music sings. 

Restless, intense, serene : 

Life is the downward stroke; the upward. Life; 

Death but the pause between. 



95 



96 



NON SINE DOLOR E 



Then spake the Questioner : If 't were only this, 
Ah, who could face the abyss 
That plunges down athwart each human breath ? 
If the new birth of Death 
Meant only more of Life as mortals know it, 
What priestly balm, what song of highest poet. 
Could heal one sentient soul's immitigable pain ? 
All, all were vain ! 

If, having soared pure spirit at the last. 
Free from the impertinence and warp of flesh, 
We find half joy, half pain, on every blast, 
Are caught again in closer-woven mesh, — 
Ah ! who would care to die 

From out these fields and hills, and this famiUar sky; 
These firm, sure hands that compass us, this dear 
humanity ? 



Ill 



Again the Answerer saith: 
O ye of little faith, 



A'a.V SJNE DOLOKK 



97 



Shall, then, the spirit prove craven. 
And Death's divine deliverance but give 
A summer rest and haven? 

By all most noble in us, by the light that streams 
Into our waking dreams, 
Ah, we who know what Life is, let us live! 
Clearer and freeer, who shall doubt ? 
Something of dust and darkness cast forever out ; 
But Life, still Life, that leads to higher Life, — 
Kven though the highest be not free from the im- 
mortal strife. 

The highest 1 Soul of man, oh, be thou bold, 
And to the brink of thought draw near, behold! 
Where, on the earth's green sod, 
Where, where in all the universe of God, 
Hath strife forever ceased ? 

When hath not some great orb flashed into space 
The terror of its doom ? When hath no human face 
Turned earthward in despair, 

For that some horrid sin had stamped its image 
there ? 



7 



98 



NON SINE DO LORE 



If at our passing Life be Life increased, 
And we ourselves flame pure unfettered soul, 
Like the eternal power that made the whole 
And lives in all he made 

From shore of matter to the unknown spirit shore; 
If, sire to son, and tree to limb, 
Cycle by countless cycle more and more 
We grow to be like him; 
If he lives on, serene and unafraid 
Through all his light, his love, his living thought, 
One with the sufiferer, be it soul or star ; 
If he escape not pain, — what beings that are 
Can e'er escape while Life leads on and up the 

unseen way and far ? 
If he escape not, by whom all was wrought. 
Then shall not we, — 

Whate'er of godhke solace still may be, — 
For in all worlds there is no Life without a pang, 

and can be naught. 

No Life without a pang ! It were not Life, 
If ended were the strife — 



NON SINE DO LORE gg 

Man were not man, nor God were truly God ! 

See from the sod 
The lark thrill skyward in an arrow of song : 
Even so from pain and wrong 
Upsprings the exultant si)irit, wild and free. 
He knows not all the joy of liberty 
Who never yet was crushed 'neath heavy woe. 
He doth not know, 
Nor can, the bliss of being brave 
^^'ho never hath faced death, nor with unquailing eye 

hath measured his own grave. 
Courage, and pity, and divinest scorn — 
Self-scorn, self-pity, and high courage of the 

soul; 
The passion for the goal ; 

The strength to never yield though all be lost — 
All these are born 

Gf endless strife. This is the eternal cost 
Of every lovely thought that through the portal 
Of human minds doth pass with following light. 
Blanch not, O trembling mortal ! 
But with extreme and terrible delight 



lOO -yON SINE DO LORE 

Know thou the truth, 

Nor let thy heart be heavy with false ruth. 

No passuig burden is our earthly sorrow 
That shall depart in some mysterious morrow. 
'Tis His one universe where'er we are — 
One changeless law from sun to viewless star. 
Were sorrow evil here, evil it were forever. 
Beyond the scope and help of our most keen en- 
deavor. 
God doth not dote, 
His everlasting purpose shall not fail : 
Here where our ears are weary with the wail 
And weeping of the sufferers ; there where the Pleiads 

float, — 
Here, there, forever, pain most dread and dire 
Doth bring the intensest bliss, the dearest and most 

sure. 
'T is not from Life aside, it doth endure 
Deep in the secret heart of all existence. 
It is the inward fire, 
The heavenly urge, and the divine insistence. 



XON S/A'E DO 1.0 RE 



Uplift thine eyes, O Questioner, from the sod! 
It were no longer Life, 
If ended were the strife; 
Man were not man, God were not truly God. 



VI 

ODE 

Read before the Society of the Phi Beta Kappa, Harvard 
University, June 26, 1890 



ODE 



ODE 



IX the white midday's full imperious show 
What glorious colors hide from human sight ! 
But in the breathing pause 'twixt day and night 
Forth stream those prisoned splendors, glow on glow ; 
Like billows on they pour 
And beat against the shore 
Of cloud-wrought cliffs high as the utmost dome, 
To die in purple waves that break on dawns to come. 



Divine, divine! Oh, breathe no earthlier word I 

Behold the western heavens how swift they flame 
With hues that bring to mortal language shame ; 

Swelling and pulsing like deep music heard 



io6 ODE 

On sacred summer eves 
When the loud organ grieves 
Or thrills with lyric life the incensed air, 
While 'mid the pillared gloom the people bow in 
prayer. 

Ill 

Now is it some huge bird with monstrous vans 
That through the sunset plies its shadowy way, 
Catching on outstretched pinions the last play 
Of failing tints celestial ! See ! it spans 
Darkly the fading west. 
And now its beamy crest 
Follows from sight the glittering, golden sun ; 
And now one mighty wing-beat more, and all is done. 



IV 

But in those skyey spaces what dread change ! 

Thus have we seen the mortal turn immortal; 

So doth the day's soul die, as through death's portal 
The soul of man takes up its heavenward range. 



ODE 



107 



A million orbs endue 

I'he unfathomable blue — 
Till, the long miracle of night withdrawn, 
The worhi beholds once more the miracle of dawn. 



Dawn, eve, and night, the iridescent seas. 

Bright moon, enlightening sun, and quivering stars, 
The midnight rose whose petals are the bars 
Of Boreal lights, the pomp of autumn trees, 
The pearl of curved shells, 
The prismy bow that swells 
'Gainst stormy skies, — these witness, these are sign 
Of thee, O Spirit of Beauty, eternal and divine ! 



And fairer still than all, — chief sign of all, — 
The naked loveliness in Eden's bower, 
Whose flesh blushed back the tint of fruit and flower; 

Whose eye reflamed the starlight ; who could call 



I08 ODE 

Father and friend the God 

That plucked them from the sod; 
The Almighty's image, and Creation's height ; 
Whose deep souls mirrored clear the circling day and 
night. 

VII 

Spirit of Beauty ! 'neath thy joyful spell 

Man hath been ever; therefore doth each breeze 
Bring to his tranced ears glad melodies, — 
Voices of birds, the brook's low, silvery bell, — 
Wild music manifold. 
Which he hath power to hold 
His own enchanted harmonies among, 
That echo round the world the songs that nature sung. 



VIII 

And thus all Beautiful in Holiness 

Doth Israel stand before the Eternal One ; 
Striking his harp with rapt, angehc tone. 

Till tribes and nations the Unseen God confess; 



ODE 109 

Knowing that only where 

His face makes white the air 
Could such seraphic song have mortal birth, — 
One saving fliitli sublime to keep alive on eartli. 



IX 

And therefore with most passionate desire 
And longing, man yearned ever to express 
Thy majesty, and Ught, and lovehness, 
O Spirit of Beauty, unconsuming fire ! 
Therefore by ancient Nile 
Rose the vast columned aisle, 
And on the Athenian Hill the wonder white 
Whose shattered ruins are the world's supreme delight. 



So is it that to thy imperial shore. 
Bright Italy ! the generations fly. 
Even but once to breathe, or ere they die. 

Where did a godlike race its soul outpour; 



no 



ODE 



Its birth divine revealing 

On glorious wall and ceiling, — 
While dome and rhythmic statue, Beauty-wrought, 
Declare all human art is but what Heaven hath taught. 



XI 

Fair Italy ! whose dread and peerless height 
The song is of the awful Ghibelhne : 
Poet! who 'mid the threefold dream divine 
Didst follow Art and Love to the Central Light! 
Tell us, O Dante! tell 
What thou dost know so well, 
That horror and death are but the shade and foil 
Of Beauty, deathless, godlike, and without assoil. 



XII 

Spirit divine ! man falls upon the sod 
In awe of thee, in worship and amaze: 
Thou older than the mountains, or the blaze 

Of sunsets, or the sun ; thou old as God : 



ODE 

As God who did create 
Long ere man reached his state 
All shapes of natural Beauty that men see, 
And his wide universe did dedicate to thee. 



XIII 

— Ye who bear on the torch of living art 

In this new world, — saved for some wondrous fate, 
Deem not that ye have come, alas, too late, 
But haste right forward with unfailing heart ! 
Ye shall not rest forlorn, — 
Behold, even now, the morn 
Rises in splendor from the orient sea. 
And the new world shall greet a new divinity. 



XIV 

Shall greet, ah, who can say! a nobler face 
Than from the foam of Cytherean seas : 
Loveliness loveHer; mightier harmonies 

Of song and color ; an intenser grace : 



ODE 



Beauty that shall endure 

Like Chans, heavenly-pure; 
A Spirit solemn as the starry night, 
And full as the triumphant dawn of golden light. 



AFTER-SONG 



TO ROSAMOND 115 



TO ROSAMOND 



ROSE of the world, 
Bloom of the year, 
Birth of the dawn ! 
By morn's one star 
Lighted to hfe ! — 
Thou and my songs 
Come to the day 
Hand clasped in hand: 

Flung on this page 
May the glow of thy name 
Back through each song 
Shine with the light 
Drawn from the skies, — 
Thou birth of the dawn, 
Flower of the mom. 
Rose of the world! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



018 597 383 9 (f 




lVNDI 



